


Heartless Wind

by sleeponrooftops



Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-10
Updated: 2008-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started in the fucking locker room…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartless Wind

It all started in the fucking locker room.

_My insides all turned to ash, so slow  
And blew away as I collapsed, so cold  
  
_

You see, there is this heaven-sent creature that changes a few lockers down from me everyday and I can never take my eyes off of him.  He is strikingly beautiful in every possibly way, and he carries himself in a way that anyone could appreciate, and appreciate I do.  He has choppy black hair that is always sticking up; fashionably, mind you, but still geeky.  He is my height, and wears the same clothes: faded jeans, chains, ridiculous belts, crazy shirts, massive amounts of band shirts, and either Converse All Stars or skater shoes.  Today, however.  Oh, my.

 

Today, the band is holding an in-school concert during fourth period and carrying on through sixth.  PE is fourth period, which meant I wasn’t going to see him or his gorgeous body.

 

Covering that body today, though, is a crisp tuxedo, tails and all.  His black hair is still spiked nonetheless, and his perfect red and purple makeup is flawlessly coated under and above his stunning eyes.  The color of those fascinating almonds is what all artists depict the ocean to be: forest green and sky blue.  I am forever entranced by him.  And, as cliché as it sounds, he is so freaking _cool_.  He is always laughing as he changes, his friends all around him, chatting similarly.  But he is always like the life of the party… just… not mine.

_A black wind took them away, from sight  
And held the darkness over day, that night_

That miniscule time of changing was one of the worst for me, though.  I can’t stop staring at him, even as I pull my jeans and t-shirt off and reach for army shorts and a shirt with around thirty guitars on the back.  He is pressed against the lockers, his friends all changing around him as he laughs like bells, making me sigh.  And then, as I’m about to step into my shorts, his beautiful eyes flick over to me, and his eyebrows rise.  For some reason, I can’t look away like I normally do.

 

He glances away again, his eyes quickly scanning his friends; they’re now busying themselves with pulling on their gym clothes.  Once seemingly satisfied, he turns his gaze back to me and flashes me the most angelic smile ever.

 

‘You’re hot,’ he mouths, biting his lower lip afterward.

 

I’m pretty damn fucking sure that’s _not_ what he was saying, but I’d like to believe it anyway.  He does a once-over, his smirk widening as he meets my eyes again.  He nods at my shocked look before suddenly jerking back into reality as his friend Matt punches him in the shoulder.

 

‘What are you looking at ogle eyes?’

 

‘Perfection,’ he mutters, sighing as he lowers his perfect face to the ground, a crestfallen look taking shape.

 

‘Sorry, Zack,’ Matt murmurs, clapping him on the shoulder before heading off with their group of friends toward the hallway leading to the exit of the changing room.

 

So, I pull the stupidest move of my life.

_And the clouds above move closer  
Looking so dissatisfied  
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing_

I stand absolutely completely still, staring into my locker.  My shirt is right there.  All I have to do is grab it.  So, why can’t I function enough to reach in, take it, and tug it on?  Why?  Cos he’s still leaning against the lockers, fucking _staring_ at me.

 

I clear my throat nervously, noticing everyone else has swept the place clean, so it’s just me and him… alone… and he’s still _staring_.  Trying to hide the shake from my arm, I reach in and grab my shirt, quickly tugging it on afterward.  Why am I so fucking nervous?  God, what is wrong with me?

 

‘You know, for someone so talkative, I kind of expected an answer back.’

 

I swear my heart drops to my feet and my stomach jumps to my throat.

 

‘To?’ I manage to croak, slowly pivoting to find him walking toward me, shifting perfectly in his cute little suit.

 

‘I did say you were hot.’

 

‘You didn’t _say_ , parse.’

 

‘So, we’re getting technical now?  Fine.’

 

His voice has lots its seduction and smoothness, to be replaced by anger and frustration.  His eyes, however, have clouded over in hopelessness and desperation.

 

‘Can’t you take a fucking hint?’ he suddenly snaps before turning on his heel and starting off.

 

‘Wait,’ I gasp, but it’s not loud enough to reach his ears.  And, by the time I actually manage to say that even, he’s already gone.  Stupid me…

_  
I used to be my own protection, but not now  
Cos my path had lost direction, somehow_

I was sure I was going to walk into someone.  Going through these crowded halls, I was almost _positive_ I was going to kill someone.  On accident, of course.

 

I am currently walking to my fifth period class, reading and rereading the crumpled piece of paper shaking in my hand.  I haven’t been able to stop trembling since I got the idea to write it.  It’s a note to Matt, confused about his confrontation with me, and I plan on giving it to him next period, demanding an explanation to his shouting.

 

 _‘Fuck, Brian, you’re so screwed!_ He!  Likes!  You _.  Do you want me to spell it out for you?’_

_‘He… he what?’ I gasp, staring wide-eyed at Matt.  I’ve barely talked to the guy before and now he’s screaming in my face.  The whole freaking gym is_ silent _._

_‘Okay, Haner, let me make this loud and clear.  Zachary Baker is fucking in_ love _with you,’ he finishes in a whisper, his face close to mine, ‘He has much longer than you’ve been_ crushing _on him.  So, stop being a pisserhead and go tell him you feel the same.’_

_‘But-’_

_‘Do you know what he’s doing right now?’_

_‘Playing a concert?’_

_‘Yeah.  Trying to clean away the tears before he goes on.’_

_And Matt left then, but not before punching me roughly in the shoulder.  He was crying?  That sweet angel was crying?  And all because of me?_

Of course, as I’m nearing fifth period, and I’m almost at the door, I freeze up.  I can’t do this anymore.  I can’t make Matt explain it any more clearly to me.  It’s already been laid out blatantly for me.  So, I do the only logical thing I can think of.  I leave.  I know the longer I’m in this school, the longer I’ll be close to losing my mind, so I quickly bolt from the building, ignoring the security screaming at me.  I have to get out.  And run I do.  Run I fucking do. _  
  
_

_A black wind took you away, from sight  
And held the darkness over day, that night_

I’m halfway home, cold tears streaming down my cheeks and sticking to my face in the biting weather.  It’s only mid-January, so the wind is fierce and I didn’t have half a mind to grab my jacket before I left.  Or my fedora, for that matter.

 

With each step I take, I feel my heart sinking lower and lower, disappearing into nothingness.  How was I so utterly stupid?  How could I have been so blind?  I mean, he came right out and fucking told me I was hot!  Umm, hello!

 

And that’s when I hear the obnoxiously loud, heavy rock blaring from car speakers steadily approaching me.  Although curious, I can’t find the energy to turn around.  I’m surprised I haven’t just collapsed yet.  The car comes to a fixed roll behind me, the music quickly lowering.

 

‘A little birdie told me a story,’ a sudden, saccharine voice murmurs, causing me to stop abruptly, ‘I mean, I didn’t really believe him, but I had to go look anyway.  You know, see if I wasn’t being lied to.’

 

I slowly turn, my breath gone and my heart waiting.  There he is.  Beauty and all.  Except, however, for the red puffs around his eyes.  My heart beats again only to break at the sight of what I’ve done.

 

‘You look frozen,’ he unexpectedly coos, putting his car in park and quickly climbing out.

 

‘Here,’ he whispers, draping my leather jacket over my shoulders, ‘I found out your combination from one of your friends.  I hope you don’t mind.’

 

I shake my head, still not believing he’s actually _touching_ me, let alone _speaking_ , after what I did to him.

 

‘You gonna say something to me?’

 

‘Why are you here?’

 

The hopeless abruptly returns as his eyes instantaneously become watery again.

 

‘No, don’t cry,’ I gasp, reaching forward and wrapping my arms around him.

 

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ I try to explain, holding him tightly.

 

He tentatively slides his arms around my midsection before relaxing and squeezing me to him.

 

‘You don’t even know how long I’ve wanted to know what this feels like,’ he breathes, tucking his pierced bullring nose into my neck and surprising me as he presses his lips to my cool skin.

 

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper back, closing my eyes as I lean my head on his shoulder.

 

‘Don’t be.  As long as you promise to never ignore me again.’

 

‘Never.’ _  
  
And the clouds above move closer  
Looking so dissatisfied  
And the ground below grew colder  
As they put you down inside  
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing_

After we finish our very long hug, Zack releases me, smiling as he rolls the pad of his thumb over my cheek.

 

‘You know, it’s really hard for me to believe that something so beautiful is mine,’ he admits, blushing as he casts his gaze downward.

 

‘ _You’re_ lucky to have _me_?’ I ask in disbelief, curling my finger under his chin and lifting his eyes to meet mine again, ‘I think you’re delusional.’

 

‘I think we feel the same about each other, which, to tell you the truth, is the largest relief ever.’

 

‘So, now that we’ve cleared the air-’

 

‘I want to take you somewhere, if you don’t mind,’ he sharply interrupts, smiling brilliantly.

 

‘Not at all.’

 

I’m trying to play it cool, trying not to reveal how eternally grateful I am that we are finally together, but it’s quite possibly the most difficult thing I’ve ever attempted.

 

‘I grabbed your fedora, too,’ he comments as he walks me to my door, holding it open like the gentleman that he is.

 

‘I must say, you look absolutely ravishing in it,’ he continues after closing my door and climbing into the driver seat.

 

It’s nice and toasty in the car and I thankfully huddle into my jacket farther, shivering.

 

‘How long had you been walking?’ he asks after a few moments of silence of just sitting there, the car still in park.

 

‘I’m not sure.  I left before fifth period.’

 

‘Well, hun, when I’m came and got you, sixth period was already almost over.  God, you must really be chilled to the bone.’

 

I feel so bad sitting there helpless, watching him fumble around for something, his adorable features distraught.  Sighing heavily, he pushes upward with his feet, twisting around in his seat and bending backward over it.  I stare, spellbound, as his pale, flat stomach is revealed, the hidden muscles showing as they contract because of his awkward angle.

 

He gives a grunt, tosses something heavy to the other side of the car, and then flips back down into his seat, a sweatshirt in hand.  He holds it out for me, nervously running a hand through his hair.  I smile in thanks, take the sweatshirt, and remove my jacket to put it on.  Once situated in both, Zack nods in satisfaction before putting the car in drive and pulling into the nearest driveway to turn around.

 

‘Okay, so, I was going to drag your sorry ass to the beach, but seeing as you’re cold and it’s cold out, that’s out of the question.  How would you feel about coming back to my apartment?’

 

The idea sounded more than utterly marvelous, and I think it showed as my face lights up, warm brown eyes and all.

 

‘Ah, there’s the angel I was looking for,’ he says, charming me with his exotic laughter.

 

‘ _Am_ I your angel?’ It came out before I could even stop the thought process.

 

‘Absolutely,’ he immediately responds without a second’s hesitant thought.

_  
So now you're gone, and I was wrong  
I never knew what it was like, to be alone_

Zack’s apartment was, quite literally, the shit.  Well, not literally in the sense of actual _shit_ , but, man, it’s fucking cool as hell.  He lives in a building, so we have to go through the front first, and then we decide to take the stairs, talking consistently the whole way up.  To me, it seems like we’re trying to cram a whole lifetime of knowledge into each other before we ultimately reach the sixth floor.  That was one of his requests of having to live in an apartment building: he had to be on the sixth floor, in the sixty-sixth room.  And he got it.

 

The front of his door is painted solid black with large red, dripping numbers that say 6661.  When I question how in any righteous hell his neighbors let him do that, he explains that half his neighbors are completely psychotic and don’t come out of their apartment except at night, so they don’t care.  The only one that does, a wrinkly, smelly old lady, just yells at him a lot, but no one really pays attention to her.

 

Inside, using his ridiculously clang-y keys because of all the gizmicks hanging from it, are black walls _covered_ in various posters of bands, photographs, Post-its, lists, poems, lyrics, guitar bits, notes from friends, and other random things like Mardi Gra beads, hats on tacks, and scarves pinned.  He has a large bed shoved in the corner, two books, one magazine, an open notebook, and a guitar lying on it.

 

While he walks off into the kitchen, calling after me to make myself comfortable, I head over to the bed to see what he’s reading: Soulforge by Margaret Weis (for the millionth time by the looks of the spine) and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (again, many times).  The magazine is an old issue of Rolling Stone while the notebook paper is filled to the brim with lyrics and guitar parts.  His guitar is a beautiful, old Gibson.

 

After inspecting his lovely Star Wars sheets hidden by an Edward Scissorhands comforter, I trail over to his couch, sinking into its lovely springy cushions.  His coffee table is littered with more open notebooks, books, and magazines.

 

‘Sorry.  It’s a bit messy,’ he murmurs, appearing suddenly at the side of the couch.

 

‘It’s perfect,’ I mumble, still looking around.

 

‘Yeah, it’s kind of captivating.  Look at the ceiling.  Do you want anything to drink?  Eat?’

 

‘Soda’s fine,’ I mutter as I gasp at the ceiling.

 

More posters.  There are a few painted drawings, too, that are, not surprisingly, very good.

 

‘Did you draw those?’ I ask, pointing to one of them as he curls up on the sofa next to me, handing me a glass filled with ice and Diet Coke.

 

‘Yeah.  When I first moved in here, I figured the place was just so perfect that I had to destroy it.  I’ll have to take pictures of everything when I leave.  Or just never move out.’

 

I laugh at this statement, looking down to find him grinning widely.

 

‘You’re such a little kid,’ he comments, scooting a little closer, ‘I love how wide your eyes get when you’re nervous.’

 

‘They do?’

 

‘Don’t think you fool me for one second.  They’re a pretty color.  They’re a different shade of brown.’

 

‘They look like everyone else’s.’

 

‘But they’re yours.’

 

‘Well…’

 

‘Hey, Bri – do you mind if I call you Bri?’

 

‘Not at all.’

 

‘Mmkay, then.  Anyway, you are strictly, excuse the crude terms, _gay_ , parse, right?’

 

‘Yeah,’ I answer automatically, my mind instantly jumping to all the moments I’ve thought of _him_ in such _situations_ as I hope to be in very _soon_.

 

‘You gonna verbalize those lustful thoughts?  Alas, so the lion is found.’

 

‘I’d consider myself more the lamb.’

 

‘Would you?  Well, I think we have to test that out.’

 

I just roll my eyes and chuckle softly, setting down my drink.  I had to figure he’d think of the cleverest way to come up with an introduction to this. _  
  
On a Valentine's Day, on a Valentine's Day  
On a Valentine's Day, on a Valentine's Day  
On a Valentine's Day, on a Valentine's Day  
(I used to be my own protection, but not now)  
On a Valentine's Day, on a Valentine's Day  
(Cos my mind has lost direction, somehow)  
On a Valentine's Day, on a Valentine's Day  
(I used to be my own protection, but not now)  
On a Valentine's Day, on a Valentine's Day  
(Cos my mind has lost direction, somehow)_


End file.
